


Under(the)cover(s)

by eiluned



Series: Troika [6]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: (the thinnest plot but plot nonetheless), Anal Fingering, Come Shot, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Ejaculation, First Time, Fucking, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Partners to Lovers, Phone Sex, Porn, Porn With Plot, Pre-Avengers Movie, Undercover, Unexpected Feels, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Undercover work leads to sexual frustration.  Sexual frustration leads to rash decisions.  Rash decisions lead to... well, relief of sexual frustration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under(the)cover(s)

**Author's Note:**

> Porn. Completely and utterly gratuitous porn. Also, this is basically the beginning of Clint and Natasha's relationship in the Troika series. Thanks to the Hive for cheerleading me through this one! Feedback is highly appreciated. :D

The thing about working undercover with Natasha was that it nearly always ended up leaving Clint sexually frustrated. Watching her through the scope on a sniper rifle or his bow was one thing; actually being undercover beside her was something entirely different.

For instance, on this particular mission, they were at a resort in the Maldives shadowing a drug dealer who had turned to trafficking a very dangerous variation on the super soldier serum. Their cover was two strangers who've met at the resort. That way, they could interact with each other, but could also split up for surveillance without raising suspicion.

So flirty singles. And Natasha was just ridiculously sexy, so to have him flirting with her, whether it was genuine or not, was frustrating to say the least. She'd bat her eyelashes and smirk at him and put her hand on his thigh, and to keep up his cover, he had to lean in close to her while they danced and whisper in her ear and let his hands stray a little bit too low from her waist.

Which meant that every night, Clint got to groan into his pillow and try to... well, blow off some steam, so to speak.

They spent that particular evening in the resort's nightclub, keeping an eye on the dealer (who turned out to be the most boring drug dealer on the planet). Natasha wore a white bikini with pale gold trim, the bottoms covered by a turquoise and gold sarong. She leaned back against the bar on her elbows, crossing her legs, and the move managed to thrust her gorgeous breasts out and expose her shapely legs at the same time.

Clint exhaled a deep breath and tossed back the rest of his bourbon. He could see Natasha's lips curve up into a tiny smirk, and he shook his head at her. "God, you are too gorgeous," he said, signaling the bartender to bring them another round. "Do you always tease men like this?"

"Just men that I like," she replied, fishing the cherry out of the bottom of her empty mai tai and sucking it off of the tip of her paper umbrella.

"Oh, that is not nice at all," Clint muttered, taking the empty glass out of her hand and replacing it with a fresh mai tai.

Grinning, she stabbed the cherry in her new glass and offered it to him. He plucked it off the end with his fingers and popped it into his mouth, sucking the meat of the fruit from the stem.

"You know I expect you to do the cherry stem trick," she said casually, sipping her drink.

In response, he parted his lips, the double-knotted cherry stem held between his teeth. Natasha laughed and turned on her bar stool, resting a hand on his thigh, her fingers snaking dangerously close to his junk. "Oh, that is impressive," she purred. "That's quite a talented tongue you have."

"I practice," he replied, chasing the boozy fruit down with a sip of bourbon. "And tying cherry stems isn't the only thing my tongue can do. I can give you a demonstration if you like."

"I think I'd like that," she murmured, leaning in close to him to put her lips against his ear. "The target's on the move. Looks like he's heading back to the bungalows."

Clint sighed and stroked his hand down her soft, bare arm. "I have no idea why we're watching this guy," he muttered back. "He's just been drinking margaritas and looking lonely the whole time. He's not going to try to unload the serum here."

"I know," she replied, resting a hand on his shoulder and brushing her nose against his cheek. "But hey. Think of this mission as an all-expenses paid vacation in a tropical paradise, and all we have to do is spy on the absurdly dull drug dealer."

He slid one hand up her thigh, underneath the edge of her sarong, and she drew back to give him an impishly raised eyebrow. "Why don't you come back to my room and show me what you can do, hotshot?" she said softly.

Clint found himself wishing more than anything that she really meant what she was saying.

They slipped off of their barstools and clasped hands, their hips bumping together as they crossed the open-air nightclub and headed out onto the maze of piers leading to the over-water bungalows.

The dealer went into his own bungalow -- alone -- so Clint let Natasha lead him back to theirs. The bungalow they were in had two units in it, and by an amazing coincidence, their covers ended up in the adjoining rooms despite being complete strangers. He followed Tasha into her room, making sure it looked to anyone who may have been watching them that he was about to get laid, but as soon as he closed the door, the covers dropped.

Natasha sighed and flopped down on her bed, drumming her sandaled feet on the floor. "Ah, yet another day," she said, lifting her arms above her head and resting them on the mattress. "Hopefully this guy stays here another couple of weeks. I don't want to go back to New York in January."

Her position showed off her breasts to great advantage, and Clint surreptitiously adjusted his linen trousers. "You need anything?" he asked.

He honestly meant food or a drink or whatever, but she was obviously still feeling flirty. She raised an eyebrow and quirked her lips at him. "What are you offering, Barton?" she teased.

Grinning, Clint shook his head at her, heading to the adjoining door. "Good night, Tasha," he said.

She was still looking at him as he closed the door, and he really wished that the thoughtful, half-smiling expression on her face meant that she was seriously considering his offer. But she didn't say anything, and once in his room, he stripped off his button-down shirt, laying it out on a chair, and collapsed face-down on the bed.

In general, it's a bad idea to get sexually involved with your partner. It adds all kinds of distractions to missions that really shouldn't be there, and he knew that perfectly well. That was why he was pressing his erection into the mattress instead of... well, into Tasha.

But knowing the smart course of action didn't stop him from wanting her so badly that it made him ache. She was beautiful, sure, but she was also intensely clever and surprisingly funny, and he genuinely enjoyed being around her. He liked her. Hell, if he were to let himself, he could probably fall in love with her.

He pressed his face into the bed and groaned, listening to the faint sound of her shower come on. For safety reasons, they left the adjoining door cracked when they were both in their rooms. If someone were to attack one of them, it wouldn't be good to have to fiddle with the locks instead of just busting through and taking out the threat. But that also meant he has to be very quiet if he wanted to take care of business in his bed.

Rolling onto his stomach, he tugged open the fly of his trousers, slipping his hand underneath the linen to grasp his cock. God, she was sexy that day. They had spent most of it in swimsuits, following the target on a snorkeling outing and then hanging out on the beach. Her white bikini turned slightly transparent when wet, and so he spent a good portion of the day trying not to notice the darker pink of her nipples through the clinging fabric. And that, of course, meant that he spent a good portion of the day trying not to think about wrapping his lips around her nipples.

He also spent a good portion of the day either with his bottom half underwater or with a strategically placed beach towel in his lap.

Clint focused on keeping his breathing quiet and even as he slowly stroked his erection, his other hand wandering over his chest and stomach. He couldn't hear anything in Tasha's room, which was a little odd. She usually puttered around for a while after taking a shower, and it was early for her to have gone to sleep. But his brain was pretty firmly occupied with a fantasy about rolling her nipples between his fingers while he fucked her with his tongue, so he didn't give the silence too much thought.

Quite suddenly, a sound broke the quiet. His hand stilled immediately, and he listened very hard, because even through his masturbatory haze, he realized that it had been Natasha making that sound. In fact, it had sounded like a moan, and that couldn't be right. He must have been so wrapped up in his fantasy about her that he had... triggered an auditory hallucination or something.

After a few seconds of silence, there was another sound, this one much quieter than the first: a low sigh of pleasure.

Before he could think better of it, he reached out and picked up the cell phone from his bedside table, his thumb unlocking it and tapping the quick-dial for Natasha's number.

He listened to her phone buzz in the adjoining room, and she made another sound, this one more like a gasp. "Clint?" she answered, her voice a little husky through the phone. "What is it?"

He really had no idea what he was planning to say, so he put his mouth on autopilot. "Hey," he said. "So what are you doing?"

Tasha was quiet for a second, and he wondered if she was about to come through the door and kick his ass. "What do you think I'm doing?" she finally replied, a little breathlessly.

His eyes slipped shut for a second, and he squeezed his cock, swallowing a groan. "God, I hope you're doing the same thing I'm doing right now."

She made an amused noise, halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "Well, what are you doing right now?"

Opening his eyes again, he stared at the exposed thatch ceiling for a second and decided to just go for it. "Stroking my cock and thinking about you."

That was definitely a turned on sound he heard through the phone. "Well, I don't have a cock to stroke, and I'm not thinking about myself, but... what I'm doing is in the same spirit," she purred, and Clint swallowed hard.

"...I think I could arrange for you to have a cock to stroke."

Tasha laughed again, and he could hear the soft hiss of bare skin on sheets. "Tell me what you're thinking about," she whispered.

He imagined her naked on the sheets, the pale of her skin blending with the white cotton, her red hair splayed over the pillowcase, her hands roaming over her body, and he groaned softly. "Well, I'm thinking about how you must look right now," he said, rubbing his thumb against the head of his cock and jerking a little at the pleasure. "But when I called you, I was thinking about playing with your nipples and fucking you with my tongue."

"Oh," she moaned, the sound soft and rich in his ear, and he really wanted to hear that moan in person, not just over the phone. "That sounds like a good fantasy."

"Mm, it's one of my favorites."

"So does your fantasy Natasha like that? When you fuck her with your tongue?"

He grinned at the ceiling. "You fucking love it," he rumbled. "You keep pulling my hair and grinding against my mouth, begging me to bring you off."

She let out a breathless laugh, and he imagined her with her hand between her legs, her fingers mimicking what his tongue would do. "Oh, now that can't be right," she said. "I never beg for anything."

"Baby, with my mouth between your legs, you would beg me to make you come."

"Oh, you're that good?" she teased, and he pictured the smile quirking her lush lips.

"The best," he said. "Now, you tell me what you're doing right now."

"Doing or thinking?"

"Doing. Well, and thinking. You can mix it up."

Tasha sighed deeply, and he imagined her stretching, arching her back. "Let's see," she murmured. "I guess I'll start with what I'm thinking. When you called, I was thinking about tying you to the lounge chair out on the patio with my bikini bottoms and sucking your cock until you come down my throat. But now I'm thinking about straddling your lap and sinking down on your cock while you fingerfuck my ass."

Clint had to grip the base of his dick like a vise to keep himself under control. He'd always had a sneaking suspicion that Natasha wasn't exactly tame in the sack, but hearing... _that_ in her husky voice nearly blew the top of his head off.

"Oh Jesus," he breathed, and she let out a low, rich chuckle.

"Want to hear what I'm doing?"

"Fuck yes."

The sound of skin on sheets filtered through the phone again. "Mm, I'm lying on my back with my legs spread wide, and I have two fingers in my cunt. I'm imagining they're your cock, but I somehow feel like my imagination just isn't big enough."

Clint swallowed hard and pushed himself upright. "Trust your feelings," he groaned with a faint laugh. "Keep talking, princess."

She let out a breath of laughter. "I'm pumping my fingers in and out, and god, I'm so wet," she purred. "Oh, now I'm sliding my fingers out and touching my clit."

'This is stupid,' Clint thought. Why was he in his room, listening to her talk about touching herself, when he could be... well, in her room, helping her touch herself? He was reasonably sure that she wouldn't murder him for making that assumption, so he quietly got up off of the bed, holding his trousers up with one hand.

He padded silently to the adjoining door, nudging it open just enough so that he could stand in between. Her side of the door was open a little wider, so he had a perfect view of her stretched out on the bed. Sure enough, she was on her back with her legs wide open, her fingers rubbing tight circles around her clit, and he had to reach out and hold the doorframe to keep from falling over.

"Are you wet for me?" Clint rumbled into the phone, and Natasha's body arched.

Her breath caught in her throat a little. "Oh god, yes," she moaned, rubbing harder. "I'm so wet for you, Clint..."

"What are you thinking about now?"

For a second, he thought her eyes flicked toward the door, and he held his breath until she rolled onto her stomach. She stretched out for a second before pulling her knees underneath her, thrusting her hips up and back, inadvertently giving him a good view of her fingers sliding in and out of her cunt.

He'd never really thought of himself as a voyeur, but watching her do this to herself was amazing. Knowing she was doing this while thinking about him turned him on beyond belief.

"Mm, I'm thinking about you bending me over and working your big cock inside me," she breathed into the phone, and his body reacted to those words almost as strongly as if she had touched him. "God, I want to feel it, I want to feel it so bad. I want you to hold my hips and fuck me hard, Clint."

His breathing grew a little harsher, and he gripped the base of his cock tightly. "Bring yourself off for me, Tasha," he growled, and she gasped softly, fingers teasing her clit.

"Why don't you come all the way into my room so you can have a better view?" she said and looked over her shoulder, right at him.

It was his turn to gasp. Through the gap in the door, he could see a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips, a come-hither look if he'd ever seen one.

"C'mere," she repeated, ending the call and tossing her phone onto the bedside table.

He stepped out of his trousers as he crossed the room, and he dropped his phone on the table beside hers. His weight made the bed dip a little when he sat down at the foot, and Natasha pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. He'd seen her in various states of undress over the years, but she hadn't seen him fully naked before, at least as far as he knew. Her eyes raked over his body, her gaze intense and appraising over his muscled shoulders and chest, his waist tapering down to a flat stomach, and over the big, ropy muscles of his legs. The dusting of hair across his chest trailed down his stomach and led to what was, in his not-so-humble opinion, the main attraction.

He was long but not too long, and thick all the way from base to tip, and he was pretty damned proud of his cock if he did say so himself. It curved upward toward his belly, and catching her eye, he palmed it, stroking twice before reaching down to roll his balls in his hand.

"Bring yourself off," he repeated.

"Are you sure you don't want to do that yourself?" she teased, stroking her fingers over her mound.

He made a faint noise of pleasure. "Oh, trust me. I'm going to make you come soon enough, and I'm going to make you come over and over," he rumbled, the promise in his voice making her shiver. "But first I want to watch you get off. Turn over onto your back, Nat."

She raised her eyebrow at his imperious tone, and he just gave her a tiny smile in response, daring her to balk. But she didn't; slowly, she rolled over, settling onto her back and parting her knees again, sliding her hand from her breast down over her stomach and back between her legs. "Oh fuck," Clint breathed, gripping his cock again. "Show me your clit."

Biting her lip again, she framed her swollen nub with her fingers, squeezing it briefly. His eyes raked over her body, lingering on her face before focusing intensely on her pussy, and he imagined she could feel the force of his gaze on her skin, touching her in the most intimate places.

"Jesus, Tasha," he groaned, slowly stroking his erection. "Now spread yourself open. I want to see your cunt."

Her eyes darkened noticeably, and her fingers drifted down and spread her labia, exposing the pink mouth of her pussy to his gaze. "God, you're so wet," he said, fisting his other hand in the sheets as if that would restrain him from touching her. "Tell me what you're thinking about."

"I'm thinking about your tongue in my cunt," she moaned breathlessly. "You're fucking me deep with it, and you have your thumb on my clit, making me buck against your mouth."

She plunged her fingers into her pussy again, slicking them up before pulling them out to rub at her clit. "Oh god, yes," she continued, her toes curling against the sheets. "And... and then you push your finger inside of me to get it wet before... before sliding down to rub at my asshole. Oh god, Clint, I want to come on your tongue with your finger in my ass..."

Her body suddenly jerked, and she let out a throaty cry and pushed her fingers in deep, pressing the heel of her hand against her clit to ride out the orgasm. It was the sexiest goddamn thing he had ever seen, was even sexier than he had imagined, to watch her buck against her own hand, her eyes shut tight and her lips parted as she gasped and moaned.

The second her body relaxed, he rolled onto his stomach and caught her hand in his, gently sliding her fingers free from her cunt and bringing them to his mouth. Her head jerked up when he sucked her fingers into his mouth, and then her face went a little slack with arousal. She tasted like heaven, he thought as he flicked his tongue against the little web of skin between her first and second fingers, a little tart and a little sweet and so fucking good that he had to taste her at the source.

He made sure her eyes were on him, and he let her fingers slip out of his mouth, moving his hands to the backs of her thighs and spreading her legs wide. "Hold yourself open for me," he growled. "Baby, I'm gonna make you come so hard..."

The sound she made when he closed his mouth over her clit was beautiful. It was halfway between a gasp and a shriek, and he wished that he could have recorded it for posterity, because it was a sound he never would have imagined Natasha making.

On second thought, he decided that he would rather just hear it over and over, every night.

His tongue brushed against her fingers as he licked broad swipes up and down her cunt. He loved the way her hand trembled and her hips jerked, and her free hand came down to grip his where it rested against her stomach. When he curved his tongue around her clit and began teasing it with slow, firm licks, she let loose a litany of moans and curses, punctuated by his name in a low, throaty murmur.

He slowly worked his tongue into her pussy, pushing as deep as he could go. That wrenched a gasp from her throat, and she tightened up on his tongue. He felt like he was drowning in her, her sweet taste on his tongue and her clean, musky scent in his nose, and what a way to go.

Pushing himself up on one elbow, he tonguefucked her and stroked his cock, trying not to get too worked up imagining how good it would feel to work his way into her tight pussy. Luckily, she distracted him from that line of thought by planting her feet against the bed and pushing her hips up, trying to force his tongue deeper, her thighs trembling from the effort and, he hoped, from how good he was making her feel.

Sliding his tongue free, he lapped at her fingers, which were gripping her tender skin tight, and moved back up to her clit. She collapsed back onto the mattress, and her breathy moans rose in pitch when he rubbed his thumb in the wetness trickling from her cunt.

She arched up when he pushed two fingers into her, and when he rubbed his wet thumb against her asshole, she fucking keened. Her pussy was starting to flutter around his fingers, and he knew she had to be close. Bearing down on her clit with his tongue, he pushed the tip of his thumb just barely into her ass, and Natasha went off like a rocket.

It was by far the best orgasm he'd ever been on the giving end of, and he had to flatten his hand against her stomach and hold her down to keep her from bucking him right out from between her legs. She came so hard that he thought for a second that she would take him with her, and as she collapsed back onto the bed, he had to reach between his legs and tug his balls away from his body to stave off his own orgasm.

If he wasn't careful, he was going to embarrass himself.

With an utterly lascivious grin, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, her gorgeous tits swaying with the motion, and he had to tug on his balls once more for good measure. "Well," she said, her voice husky from making such a racket, "You weren't lying. You are very good with your tongue, Barton."

Grinning at her, he licked her taste off of his lips, and she was suddenly grabbing his shoulders, pulling him down onto her, and kissing the hell out of him. Her legs went around his waist immediately, forcing all of his weight onto her body, and she felt so fucking good underneath him. He liked the firm press of her tits against his chest and the silky warmth of her skin and he loved the way she used her thighs to arch up underneath him, rubbing her wet pussy against his cock. He loved how she kissed him, hot and absolutely filthy, humming in the back of her throat as her hands gripped at his shoulders. She was soft and strong, pliant and pushy, coy and dirty, and he loved all of those little contradictions that made her Natasha.

"Ohhhh," she moaned, breaking away from his mouth to gasp for breath when his fingers closed on her nipple. "Oh fuck yes."

She was amazingly responsive to his touch, shuddering with each twist of his fingers, and she grew wetter and wetter against him. "God, I love your tits," he rumbled, sliding down her body a little so he could suck one hard nipple into his mouth.

Her breathless laugh turned into a gasp when he started sucking, rolling the hard little bud around his tongue. When he cupped her breast with his other hand, tugging on that nipple, her legs locked around him again and she started rubbing herself against the flat of his stomach.

Very, very quickly, she was tensing underneath him, her eyes squeezed shut and her body shivering rhythmically, and he was kind of amazed to realize that she was already close to coming again, just from having him play with her tits. And while he felt like a goddamn sex superhero, he also wasn't ready to have her come again. He had other plans.

When he let her go, Natasha cursed at him rather viciously in Russian. "Did you just say that I suck goat dicks?" he said with a laugh, pushing himself up on his knees.

"Yes, asshole," she replied, glaring daggers at him. "Do you know how close I was?"

She bit her bottom lip when he leaned back over her. "Yes," he said, and she shivered a little. "But I'm not going to let you come again until my cock is inside of you."

She swallowed so hard he could hear it. "Does that mean you're going to fuck me right now?" she said, her voice a breathy purr. "Because I'm not a patient woman. I'm ready to come again."

"Do you want me to fuck you right now?"

"Jesus, Barton, can't you catch a hint?"

Her lips quirked, and god, he wanted to taste that mouth again, but he had other plans for her. "Turn over," he ordered, grinning when she gave him a mock-sneer. "Get on your hands and knees, Tasha."

She rolled over slowly in the cage of his arms, holding his gaze so that she was looking at him over her shoulder, and then she pushed her hips back, stretching out sinuously and rubbing her ass against him. "Well? What are you waiting for?" she murmured, biting her lip and looking at him from underneath her lashes.

Grabbing hold of her hip, he lined his cock up and was just about to push inside of her when his brain suddenly nudged him with a flash of common sense. "Goddammit," he muttered. "Do you have any condoms? Because I don't, and I am going to be a very, very disappointed guy if I don't get to fuck you."

"You don't need one," she said, and his brain sputtered a couple of times before it shorted out.

"Oh," he said rather stupidly. "Oh... holy fuck."

The grin she gave him over her shoulder was... well, one of the sexiest things he had ever seen. Her plump bottom lip was caught between her teeth, and god, he was going to fuck her until she screamed.

He rubbed the head against her, groaning a little at how hot and wet she was. "Mmm, come on," she purred, pushing back against him like a cat in heat. "C'mon, I need to feel that cock stretching me open--"

He interrupted her by sliding his dick steadily into her pussy, pushing against her tight resistance until he was balls-deep in that hot, wet clench, and she shuddered hard against him, her hands fisting in the sheets.

"Ohhh Jesus fuckin' Christ," he groaned over her breathy moan.

She rolled her hips, moaning his name, and he thought the top of his head would come off. And then she started thrusting back against him, fucking herself on his cock, and he realized that he was wrong. She was going to fuck him until he screamed.

Squeezing him tight inside of her, she worked him until his legs felt weak, all the while making soft, husky sounds in the back of her throat, and this was better than any wet dream he'd ever had.

Taking hold of both of her hips, he drove into her, a hard thrust that made her gasp, and he fucked her hard and fast until she collapsed down onto her elbows. Her tits swayed with the motion, and bracing himself on one hand, he reached around her to get a hand on one, to feel its heavy weight again.

"God, you feel... you feel so fucking good," she moaned, catching his hand in hers to make him squeeze her breast hard. "Your cock is so thick..."

He let out a breathless laugh, thrusting in deep and staying there just to feel her pussy flutter around him. "You know how to stroke a guy's ego," he said, sliding his fingers down to pluck at her nipple.

Pushing herself up on her hands, she sat up on her heels, pressing her back against his chest, and oh, that was perfect. She made little circles with her hips, clenching his cock rhythmically, and he got both hands on her tits, twisting her nipples just hard enough to make her cry out.

"God, you're perfect," he growled in her ear. "Gonna make you come so hard, Tasha."

She held onto his biceps, shuddering against him, and he was desperate to feel her orgasm around him. He dropped one hand to her hip and slid the other between her thighs, his fingers slipping in her slickness. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, her back arching, and he pumped in and out of her firmly, working the swollen bud of her clit between his first and middle fingers.

"Oh," she moaned. "Oh... oh god, that feels... that feels amazing. Yes, keep fucking me right there, right there, right there--"

Her words suddenly rose into a desperate cry, her fingernails digging into his skin, and just like that she was coming on his cock. Her body spasmed and her pussy clamped down on him so hard that it made him see stars. She collapsed down onto her hands again, and he went down with her, grinding his dick inside of her to prolong her climax.

There was a sudden gush of wetness against his groin accompanied by a sharp shudder and shout from her, and he realized with a jolt of hypermasculine pride that he'd made her come so hard that she squirted.

And just like that, _he_ was right on the edge of coming.

"Fuck," he hissed, pushing himself up onto his knees and pulling out of her still-spasming cunt.

He tried all the tricks he could think of off the top of his head, breathing deeply, calculating arrow trajectories, imagining Coulson in women's underwear, but his body completely overrode his brain. When Natasha pushed back at him, his wet cock slipped into the cleft of her ass and he lost it, striping come over her back from her ass to her shoulders.

The room was suddenly ringing with quiet, and Clint realized that he had been making a racket, shouting god knows what as he came on her, and holy shit, he just came all over Natasha. It was enough to make his cock twitch again, still pressed against her firm ass.

Resting her weight on her elbows, she shot him a grin over her shoulder as she rubbed against him, laughing breathlessly when he shuddered.

"Whoops," he said, and she laughed again. "Uh, sorry?"

"No need to apologize," she replied, her voice sex-husky, and Jesus, he was already getting hard again, or rather he never actually went soft; she was going to keep him in a state of perpetual arousal, and he was probably going to die from it.

Well, at least he'd die a happy man.

Her pink tongue darted out to catch a drop of come sliding over the curve of her shoulder, and she made a show of lapping it up and swallowing while holding his gaze, and yes, he was definitely going to die a happy man.

And because Clint Barton had the shittiest luck ever, the motion alarms they'd set up on the drug dealer's bungalow chose that moment to go off.

For a split second, he and Natasha stared at each other, eyes wide with surprise, and then they both scrambled into motion. He darted into the bathroom to get a towel and gave her back a quick wipe-down as she struggled into a pair of leggings, and then he had to snag his trousers from the floor and yank them on while she tugged a shirt over her head. She tossed him one of her guns so he wouldn't have to go back into his bungalow, and they quickly but quietly slipped out into the dark night.

As it turned out, the world's most boring drug dealer was actually just that boring. He was trying to sell his serum knock-off to a guy who'd literally made his way to the resort in a rowboat. Clint had to stifle a laugh when he and Natasha surprised the two midway through the deal; they looked so genuinely shocked that he wished he could've taken a picture of their faces.

"Coulson," Natasha said into her earpiece, which she had thoughtfully grabbed along with her guns. "Two targets in custody. Time for pick-up."

Twenty minutes later, a near-silent running S.H.I.E.L.D. boat pulled up to the pier and Coulson stepped off with four guards who quickly bound and took the morons into custody. "Nice job," Coulson said, looking spectacularly out of place in his usual dark suit.

"Thanks," Natasha replied dryly.

Coulson's eyes skimmed over their clothes (or lack thereof in Clint's case) and Natasha's wild hair and offered a slightly raised eyebrow. "We were sleeping," Natasha said in reply to the unasked question, her tone making it clear that whether they were actually sleeping or not really wasn't any of Coulson's business.

He smirked a little. "You two coming?" he said, nodding at the boat.

Natasha looked at Clint from the corner of her eye, shaking her head ever so slightly. "Nah, boss," Clint said, tugging his trousers up a little bit from where they sat across his hips. "I mean, it'd look suspicious if three guests suddenly disappeared from their bungalows in the middle of the night without checking out or taking the seaplane back to Malé, wouldn't it? You'll already have to explain that guy's deal to management. It would make sense for Agent Romanoff and I to maintain our covers and finish their vacations."

Maybe he was laying it on a little thick; Natasha sighed and raised her eyes to the heavens, and Coulson actually snickered, but he shrugged in acquiescence. "Sure," he said. "Fine. I'll inform Accounting of your logic, and if they have a problem with it, I'll let you duke it out with them, Barton."

He might have groaned at the idea of that, but the thought of spending the next week in a tropical paradise having sex with Natasha over and over was worth whatever shit might come his way from Roz, Battle-Maiden of Accounting.

But once Coulson was on his way back to the Helicarrier's parking spot out in the Indian Ocean, dumb drug dealer and dumber buyer in tow, Clint started to feel a little awkward. He followed Natasha back to their bungalows in silence, and he was acutely aware that he had just fucked the hell out of her in the middle of mission, and what if she had been a sex kitten just as part of her cover? Maybe fucking was just a way to keep up their flirty singles thing, he thought as he followed her inside.

And then his back was against the door, the breath nearly knocked out of him by Natasha's curvy little body, and she was on tiptoes so she could bite his bottom lip and press herself against him.

He hadn't known it was physically possible to get an erection that fast.

"I have never," she murmured, swiping her tongue across his bottom lip, "ever--" (a little nibble) "come that hard--" (her hand slid down between them to cup his hard-on) "in my life."

"Oh fuck me," he groaned, reaching down to take two handfuls of her luscious ass.

She tugged her shirt off and rubbed her bare breasts against his chest, sighing as he pulled her hips tight against his. His fingers slipped down into the cleft of her ass, and it made him a little dizzy to find that her leggings were wet between her legs, and he didn't care if it was left over from her earlier orgasm or because she was already wet for him again. He just wanted to get his tongue between her thighs and taste that wetness, let it slick his face so all he had to do was breathe and it would be like he was eating her cunt again.

Her clever fingers flicked open his trousers, and he stumbled out of them as she grabbed his wrists, steering him over to her room's chaise. He hit the cushion with a grunt and then she was on top of him, wriggling in his lap like a wet dream come true because somehow she'd lost her leggings on the way across the room and he hadn't even noticed. "You gonna make me come that hard again?" she purred, holding his wrists above his head, letting him feel how wet she was by sliding her pussy over his erection.

"Over and over," he growled in reply, straining up to try to kiss her again.

But she was obviously in charge this time, and to be honest, Clint had absolutely no problem with that. When her tits hovered in front of his face, he obediently licked and sucked and nuzzled until she was writhing on him, grinding her clit against the fat head of his cock. He caught one hard nipple gently between his teeth, and she suddenly stiffened on top of him, shuddering hard on a breathless moan.

A few more shivers and she pushed herself upright, her nipples deep pink, still slowly rubbing herself against him, and she gave him a gorgeously debauched smile. "Wow, you're very multi-orgasmic," he quipped, grinning back at her.

"I'm a tough woman to please," she shot back, reaching between her legs to grab his dick.

Before he was really ready for it, she was sinking down onto him again, her hot cunt molding around him, stretching to accommodate his girth, and Jesus, he felt like an arrogant shit but he loved how she had to pause to catch her breath, he was so thick and she was so tight.

"Fuck," she breathed as she slid down the rest of the way, until his balls were pressed up against her ass and he couldn't get any deeper inside of her. "Oh, fuck, Clint, you're so thick."

"You keep tellin' me that and I'm gonna get a big head," he teased breathlessly, stroking his palms over her thighs.

"Will it match your big cock?" she teased back, squeezing him hard enough inside of her to make his eyes roll back.

She rode him like she was taming a goddamn bronco, pinning his hands down at his sides as she brought herself off again, and if he never did anything else, watching her come on top of him would be enough to make his life well-lived.

Her grip on his wrists loosened when she slumped a little on him, panting for breath, and he seized the opportunity, grabbing hold of her and pulling himself upright on the chaise with her sprawled across his lap. She laughed at how he was manhandling her, but her breath caught deliciously in her throat when he grabbed her wrists and pinned her hands together behind her back, planting his feet so she was arched against his thighs.

"Oh," she purred, rolling her hips a little. "Oh, what is this? You gonna take charge?"

"I'm gonna make you come so hard you won't be able to move," he rumbled in reply, bracing himself against the back of the chaise.

And then he started fucking her hard and solid, each thrust making her shudder and whimper. Her arms twisted in his grip, but he held on tight, his eyes raking over the arched expanse of her naked body.

"I love the way your tits bounce when I fuck you," he growled.

"You're such a charmer," she said, her breathless laugh cut off sharply by a cry. "Oh god, yes, keep fucking me right there, just like that."

He knew he had to be hammering her g-spot in this position, and her body was swiftly tensing again, her cries taking on a more desperate tone, and damn, he wanted to get her off holding her captive like that, but he needed to make it completely mind-blowing for her.

When he let go of her wrists, she planted her hands on his chest for balance, using the leverage to meet his thrusts. Bringing his hand up to her mouth, he stroked over her parted lips and slipped his first and second finger into her hot mouth, groaning when she sucked them enthusiastically. "Oh fuck, baby," he said, gripping her hip with the other hand. "Fuck yeah, suck my fingers. You gonna suck my cock like that?"

Her eyes slitted open and she smirked at him before pressing her tongue against the seam between his fingers, sucking hard. "Fuck yeah," Clint repeated, working her hips so she was grinding against him. "Yeah, I want you to suck my cock just like that, Tasha, all wet and dirty. God, I wanna see you with my dick in your gorgeous mouth, baby. You wanna suck me?"

Her hummed "mm-hm" sent a jolt of arousal straight down to his balls, and he took her increasingly enthusiastic finger-sucking as encouragement to keep talking. "Oh yeah, you want to swallow my cock," he growled, working himself up just as much as he was working her up with his words. "I bet you could get me all the way down, couldn't you? You'd suck me right up to the edge, and then I'd pull because I want to see my dick spurt on your pretty mouth. You want that? You want me to come on your tongue? And your fucking beautiful lips, baby, so I could watch you lick all my come up and swallow it down--"

His fingers came free of her mouth with a pop, and she moaned breathlessly as he rubbed them against her stiff nipple for a second before pulling her against his chest so he could plunder her mouth. When his wet fingers snaked into the cleft of her ass, she pulled out of the kiss, gasping sharply. "Oh, oh yes," she whimpered, bucking against him.

"But first, I'm gonna come inside your cunt," he rumbled, and she made a perfectly desperate sound as he pushed his two fingers past the tight ring of muscle and into her ass. "Oh yeah, you like this, don't you? You like having your ass fingerfucked."

"Yes, yes," she breathed, working herself onto his cock and back onto his fingers, her face screwed up with concentration and pleasure.

"Mm, I bet you'd like it if I fucked your ass, wouldn't you? Tell me, Tasha, you want my dick in your ass?"

"Oh god fuck yes yes," she moaned, her pussy starting to contract around him.

"You gonna come for me, beautiful?" he gasped, fighting to hold off until she was coming again. "Because I want to shoot this load into your cunt while you're coming. I wanna make you come so hard, Tasha, wanna feel you squirt and get me all wet again--"

She arched her back when he slipped his fingers deeper into her ass, and on the next thrust into her pussy, she went completely rigid, a curse caught in her throat. On the first spasm, two things happened simultaneously: her cunt clamped down tight on his cock, and she seemingly lost control of her body, she was coming so hard. The only sound she was capable of making was a high, wordless keening, but when he thrust one last time, right on the edge of losing his mind, the head of his cock bumped her g-spot and a scream broke loose from her throat.

Convulsing on top of him, she lifted up on his cock just enough so that he could look between their bodies and actually watch her gush, a hot spray of liquid onto his stomach, and it was his turn to go off like a rocket.

His cock jerked inside of her like it had a mind of its own, and in the tiny part of his brain that was still working, he wondered if it was possible to actually come so hard that his balls would turn inside out or shrivel up into testicle raisins or something. He moaned and cursed and shouted her name, gripping her hip hard enough that he'd probably leave fingerprints in her skin and burying his fingers deep in her ass with the other hand.

It took a very, very long moment for his brain to piece itself back together, and judging by how Natasha had collapsed onto him, gasping for breath, she was having a little trouble recovering, too. She moaned when he slipped his fingers out, laughing a little as she braced her shaking arms against his shoulders and sat up. Her cheeks were flushed, her bottom lip red from biting it, and Jesus, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Don't let this go to your head," she said, stroking her fingertips over his cheeks, "But that was the best sex I have ever had."

"No one will ever be able to top that," he said, his voice rusty from shouting. "No point in trying to find anyone better, sweetheart. And... well, frankly, I don't think I have ever been fucked so thoroughly and completely. You're amazing."

She gave him a little smile, one that felt private and intimate, and his heart thumped a little harder as he leaned up to catch her lips in a kiss.

This kiss was slower, sweeter, now that they had worn themselves out with fucking. Her fingers threaded through his hair, and he stroked her back, just enjoying the feel of her against him.

One of her hands slipped down between them to where they were still joined, and it came back up with her fingers wet, shining with a mixture of her slick and his come. She licked at her forefinger, and he suddenly had to taste it, too, to know what they tasted like mingled together. Leaning forward, he caught the tip of her ring finger in his teeth and sucked, the faintly bitter salt of his semen lacing the sour-sweet of her pussy, and god, he couldn't get enough of her, pulling her back into a kiss so he could taste it on her lips.

"Mm," she hummed, sucking on his lower lip. "God, you're so good."

They took a shower and collapsed in his bed (her sheets were still rather... wet), and Tasha surprised him by curling up against him, wrapping her arm around his waist and hooking her leg over his. He tried to suppress the weirdly giddy feeling that surged up in him at having her sleep naked against him like that.

And in the morning, he woke up to a hot mouth working its way steadily down his treasure trail.

"Ohhhh Jesus Christ," he groaned without opening his eyes as she tugged the sheet off of him and licked a line from the head of his cock all the way to his balls.

"Good morning," she murmured, her breath cool against the wetness on his dick.

"Good morning to you, too," he croaked, forcing his eyes open so he could see her.

She was smiling that private little smile again, her hair a wild mess of red curls spilling onto his thighs from where she lay sideways on the bed, and his heart thumped in response again. Jesus, he had it bad.

Her cool hand closed around him, lifting his already-stiff cock so she could wrap her lips around it and suck him like a goddamn popsicle. Ohh, and this was better than he had ever imagined, too. She did things with her tongue that made him feel like the top of his head might come off, sucked with just the right amount of pressure, and even lapped at his balls when she paused to take a breather.

But things were coming to a head (he mentally groaned at the pun) rather quickly, and... well, if he was going to risk this being his only blowjob from Natasha, he wanted to make sure it ended the way he wanted. If she was comfortable with it, of course.

"Wait, wait," he gasped, slapping his hand down on the bed.

Tasha lifted her face, letting her tongue play around the head of his cock while giving him an expectant look, and she was just too sexy for words. He ran through a few trajectory calculations in his head to keep his cool. "Wait," he repeated, suddenly unsure of himself. "I wanna... um, well..."

She smirked at him, and he briefly wondered if she could read minds because she grabbed his hands and pulled him upright, slipping off of the bed to kneel on the thick rug. "It's your fantasy, hotshot," she said, her voice a throaty purr. "Is this right?"

Clint had to close his eyes for a second, pulling Coulson's last pissed off lecture out of his memory banks to get his dick under control. "Oh wow," he said, and she chuckled; he opened his eyes to find her nonchalantly slipping her hand between her thighs, stroking herself. "Wow. Um, yeah."

"C'mon, Clint," she teased. "I know you just woke up but this is a little sad."

Moving to the edge of the bed, he stood up in front of her, watching her eyes follow the heavy sway of his cock. "Okay," he said, clearing his throat. "Do it, Tasha. Suck me."

Her lips split into a wicked grin, and she reached up to take his hand, wrapping it around the base of his dick so he was holding it out to her. He wasn't sure if he was begging her or if she was begging him for it, but either way, when she rose up on her knees and licked delicately at the head of his cock, he knew that he fucking liked it.

"That's right," he groaned. "Lick right there, sweetheart."

Her cheeks flushed pinker as she flickered her tongue against the ridge on the underside, and god, that felt fucking amazing. It was a good spot for him most days, but her tongue on it made it feel like a million bucks. As a matter of fact, the feel of her tongue on that spot combined with the sight of her kneeling at his feet, her hair flowing down her back, her hand working at her clit, made it feel like he was going to come post haste.

"Oh fuck fuck," he gasped. "Fuck, open your mouth, Tasha."

She sat back on her heels and parted her lips, watching him eagerly, and this was fucking pornographic, standing over her jerking off while her pink lips and tongue waited for his come.

All that hot orgasmic energy that had been building up in him suddenly burst free, and he had the presence of mind to make sure he was aiming at her mouth and not her eyes before his brain skittered off its rails. The first spurt of come went right in her mouth, and she swallowed swiftly with a soft moan, her hand working faster between her thighs. "More," she purred, and his balls gave up the ghost.

He spurted on her tongue, across her full lips and on her flushed cheeks, even down onto her big, gorgeous tits, and his legs gave out on him so that he had to collapse down onto the edge of the bed, shuddering out the last of his orgasm.

Licking her lips, she squeezed her thighs together and bucked against her hand, and oh shit, she got herself off on having him come on her face. With a hum of satisfaction, she relaxed and brought her hand up to catch a drop of come as it slid over the curve of her breast, bringing her fingers to her mouth to lick it up. "Mm," she said, swiping the jizz from her cheek and sucking it off of her fingers, too. "I love that you come so much."

"Jesus fuck, Natasha," he laughed, scrubbing his hand over his face. "I can't get over how fucking sexy you are. Especially with my come on your face."

She grinned back, sliding her hands down to cup her breasts and tease her nipples. "I love it when you come on me," she said softly, and even though she was teasing him, seducing him with her actions, her tone was different, more honest and even a little vulnerable. "I loved watching you jerk off while you stood over me, looking at me. I love the feel of your come on my tongue, love the taste of it, love swallowing it--"

With a groan, he dropped to the ground, kneeling in front of her, and pulled her into a kiss, tasting himself on her lips and tongue. He would never be able to get enough of her; she was too good, too good a fit with him, everything that he ever dreamed of wanting plus things he never even realized he needed. He wanted to sink into her skin, to never let her go, and that was scary and exhilarating all at the same time.

They ventured out in search of food a little while later, and the bartender smirked as they walked by (it was actually closer to lunch time instead of breakfast, but Clint wasn't counting the hours). Natasha winked back and slipped her arm around Clint's waist, but it didn't feel like they were undercover anymore. It felt like she wanted to be there with him, tucked against his side, and the little smile she gave him was genuine.

The little flip his heart did in his chest was genuine, too.

That evening, they lay panting together, bodies slick with sweat as the sun went down over the ocean.

"You should get a medal for that thing you do with your tongue," she mumbled, pressing her face against the curve of his neck.

"Please tell me this isn't going to be a one time thing," he said before really thinking about it; he meant because the sex was so good, but there was an undercurrent of something else underneath that thought, something he was wary of and wasn't really ready to examine yet.

Pursing her lips, she looked at him thoughtfully for a second, during which his stomach did a couple of flips. "I don't want this to be a one time thing," she said softly, and relief that he hadn't just fucked things up by getting too deep and serious washed over him.

He pulled her into a kiss, loving the way she melted against his body, humming her pleasure at his touch.

Clint was going to really enjoy this vacation.


End file.
